Jump to content
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Pendleton Omens - 26. Chapter 26

Amy looked great. With her hair down and loose again, and in a skirt rather than jeans, she looked slightly older. And with me in jeans and a dark T-shirt, she could have been someone I was dating. We went back to Jake and Annie’s. It was casual and familiar, and I liked it there.

She’d started asking questions as soon as she opened her door. “Wait till we both have a drink,” I said.

“I didn’t think you drank,” she joked.

“I’ll risk a beer.”

Instead, I ordered a bottle of Chianti to split. My plan was to slowly get her a little high, definitely higher than I’d be, then set the foundation.

“Where is he?” she asked.

“Working.”

“I figured.”

“It’s kind of a strange project,” I began to lie. “That’s why he’s so hard to reach.”

“Here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, here or out of the country?”

“He’s been out of contact,” I admitted. But I wasn’t going to bring in Incas and the Andes.

“But traveling?” Amy asked.

“Some. More inward than out.”

“Then how did you talk with him?”

“Through Julie... Julie Kent. When I went to lunch with her, she made some calls. Then she put us in touch.”

“And he’s fine?”

“Yeah. Just a little embarrassed his dad was checking in.”

Amy laughed. “I’ll bet. Who wants to be tracked down by his parents?”

“That’s how he felt... But mainly because he’d taken off so quickly. Leaving so many things – and people – hanging.”

Amy smiled. “He’s done that before. It’s his job.”

I wondered about that. Or was Scoot juggling Amy and still someone else?

“In any case,” I said, “you should see him soon enough. Though I’m not sure when. Could you hold on for another month?”

“As long as he’s okay.”

“I promise you that.”

She looked at me for a moment. “He’s really not in any danger?”

I laughed. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, you’re being so mysterious... like he’s off somewhere, filming for the government. Some place he shouldn’t be. Scoot was always applying for grants. Some of them were with the USIA.”

“What’s that?”

“The Information Agency. They’re mostly public relations, but they can be more. A friend of mine – someone who quit the hospital – was working for them. She claimed she was still being a nurse... in Pakistan. But she was really CIA.”

I laughed. “How’d you find that out?”

It was an unexpected detour that I wanted to keep her on.

“Well, she got pregnant. By someone who wasn’t another agent. Who was already married. And when she came home to sort it all out, the lies fell apart.”

“What did she do?”

Amy seemed to realize this wasn’t what she wanted to talk about. “It worked out,” she quickly finished. “The guy’s marriage was shaky anyway. So he got divorced, married my friend, and they had the baby. He didn’t have any other kids, so that helped.”

“A happy ending. Unless you happened to be his wife.”

Amy didn’t want to go on. “I’m sure Scoot’ll be fine,” she said simply.

“He’s doing his usual days,” I told her. “Twelve, fifteen hours. And not getting enough sleep.” I was pulling from other jobs Scoot had told us about, hoping Amy wouldn’t know the difference. She actually helped.

“He told me about one project,” she said, smiling. “I think they were filming in North Carolina, non-union. They were working eighteen hour days, then driving another hour each way from the location. They had to pay a high school kid to stay awake, just to get them safely to the motel.”

“I heard about that job. I don’t know how people in his business stay alive.”

“If this is the same, he’ll need to sleep for a week when he gets home.”

“But he’ll have money.”

“Maybe the two of us can go somewhere.”

That wasn’t what I wanted her thinking. But I asked her anyway. “Where would you go?”

She thought for a moment, grinning. “There are so many places...”

“Have you traveled much?”

“Not as much as I’d like.”

“Either have I.”

“I went from undergrad school straight into nursing.”

“Did you ever think of becoming a doctor?”

“Yes, but it was too many years of training. I wanted to help people sooner.”

That made sense, and I went on.

“We didn’t travel – Sharon and I – because we got married so young. I guess you could figure that out.”

“That’s kind of nice – my parents are in their fifties. I wasn’t even born till they were thirty.”

“It changes your plans.”

“But they traveled before that.”

“We intended to. Once our daughter finished college.”

“Then you got divorced.”

So she knew that much.

“Yeah. But we were married for most of Scoot and Jamie’s lives.”

Amy remembered something else. I could see it in her eyes. But she wasn’t going to ask.

“How much did Scoot tell you?” I pushed on.

She smiled slightly. “He said it was complicated.” It was sweet to think she was lying to protect me.

“Not really. I ended up hurting my wife... a lot. But I think we kept Scoot and Jamie out of it.”

“That’s what he said.” Then she didn’t go on.

“But?” I asked.

This was something I wanted to hear. Scoot and I had talked about the divorce. He understood the reasons but was almost out of college and was already living with Carla. Jamie was newly into a dorm and focused on her freshman life. “Can we talk about this later?” she’d asked.

“Scoot said the divorce was a surprise,” Amy admitted. “Like a jump cut in a movie. He hates being snuck up on.”

“A jump cut? Like when the monster suddenly leaps out and eats you?”

“Yes.”

“So I’m a monster?” I said, laughing.

“No...” But she was laughing, too. “Though I guess you were pretty bad.”

“Scoot’s view or yours?”

She shrugged. The wine was helping us along, and we were well into dinner. But I wasn’t going where I wanted.

“Scoot never said you were a monster,” she insisted. “That was your bad comparison.”

“That’s reassuring.” I smiled. Then we looked at each other, maybe figuring out what to say next. I picked up first.

“Anyway, that’s why Sharon and I never traveled.”

Amy nodded. “I’m just glad I got to meet you. And I’m sorry you’re leaving so soon.”

“I’m looking forward to it. I’ve got plenty to do.”

“You won’t miss our weather?”

“You know, I’d forgotten about that. I was all set to steal some of Scoot’s clothes... the ones I know don’t fit him. I’ve gotten that comfortable. But they’d be out of place in a Massachusetts winter.”

“You look good in them. Better than when you got off the plane.”

“Tomorrow, it’s back to jackets and coats.”

“Do you have to?”

“Cops gotta look like cops.”

“So you didn’t always dress that way?”

“Nah. I used to wear jeans all the time... in high school. Still do sometimes. Weekends. Summer.”

“You look kind of sexy.”

I looked kind of blushing. And that sat between us.

“You never told me where you’d go with Scoot,” I scrambled on. “If the two of you had the chance.”

She shook her head as if to clear it. “Anywhere would be great. It’s not like we’d see a lot of it the first week – he’d need to sleep.”

I knew she wasn’t thinking about sleep, and that worried me. If Scoot took a different direction, Amy could take it hard.

“There’s a lot to be said for goofing off,” I agreed.

“And we can always sightsee later. From what I hear, there are places we could go back to in ten years, and they’d be the same.”

She hesitated, and I waited. “Are you’re okay?” I finally asked.

“Mostly,” she said, maybe purposely shifting from Scoot. “As long as I can deal with what goes on at work... and figure out where I’m going.”

I shifted with her

“You mean long term?”

She nodded.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Forward. Always forward.”

She seemed to be quoting, but I didn’t know what.

“What would you do if you could do anything?” I asked. “I thought about that a lot when I was with Sharon. If I could just walk away... would I? If I could leave without hurting Sharon... or Jamie... or Scoot...”

“I’d live on a beach,” Amy interrupted.

“You live near the beach now.”

“But I wouldn’t be in an apartment. Or a city.”

“Sounds great.” I could picture her by the ocean. “Though who would you be helping?”

She smiled. “I can always find ways... And Scoot... or anyone... could go off to work and then come home.”

I noticed the “anyone” but said nothing.

“And you’d be comfortable?” I asked. “Being supported?”

“Who knows? There are lots of guys who love being at work.” She hesitated. “Look, I don’t mean to hurt you or anything... and I shouldn’t be telling you this... But Scoot and I’ve only known each other for a couple of months...”

She didn’t finish that, and, again, I said nothing. I wanted to repeat, “It only takes ten days to break a habit.” But I wasn’t sure where I’d had that conversation. Instead, I agreed. “It’s probably best to keep things simple.”

Of course, I hadn’t done that. But what the hell.

“Are you okay to drive?” she asked, after dessert. “You can sleep on my couch.”

I thought about another nap. Driving suddenly seemed too much. But I confessed, “I’ve had a lot less to drink than you think. And all those potatoes.”

“I thought you just liked them,” she joked.

“No... I don’t want to get a ticket.”

“Sneaky.”

“Cop trick.”

And we laughed.

Soon after, I dropped her at her apartment. When we walked to her door, she kissed me on the cheek, as before.

“See you,” she said., then quickly added, “Oh, no, I won’t.”

“You will,” I told her. “Just not tomorrow for dinner.”

She hugged me this time. For almost longer than I was comfortable with. Then I went back to my car. On the freeway, I started towards Scoot’s apartment, then took one last detour to West Hollywood. I wasn’t looking for Greg, or even for anyone. But I wanted to see all those guys again. We had college guys in Amherst, and they always looked great. But to see so many happy gay men in one place...

Greg wasn’t there, but, as he promised, the bars were packed. I got looks. I got cruised. I even got brushed against. But I wasn’t interested.

In the car, I thought about going to Julie Kent’s. I had her key, but I pictured myself in another maze of mistaken freeways. If I couldn’t drive them sober during the day, how could I manage at night and tired?

A half later, getting into bed, I realized the space between it and the wall and the distance from the night stand to the footboard was about the same size of Scoot’s cage. I fought it but finally knelt – keeping my head low and my knees in tight. Then I pulled off my shorts.

I didn’t know how he did it.

Copyright 2006 Richard Eisbrouch; All Rights Reserved
  • Like 20
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
You are not currently following this author. Be sure to follow to keep up to date with new stories they post.

Recommended Comments

Chapter Comments

I do like this story, even more now than before. I don't like Amy, and it's easy
to see why Scoot wants to be locked up, -only I still can't understand why he
doesn't just tell her so. That'd be better than living in a cage. He's acting like a
little boy. Don needs to be a real father and tell his son to get out of that cage and
grow up.

  • Like 1
Link to comment
On 10/20/2016 05:31 PM, droughtquake said:

It still feels like there are a lot of loose end hanging and I don't know how you'll resolve them…

When you finish reading the book on Sunday night, please tell me what you think still needs to be resolved. Thanks.

  • Like 1
Link to comment
On 10/20/2016 07:40 PM, Stephen said:

I do like this story, even more now than before. I don't like Amy, and it's easy

to see why Scoot wants to be locked up, -only I still can't understand why he

doesn't just tell her so. That'd be better than living in a cage. He's acting like a

little boy. Don needs to be a real father and tell his son to get out of that cage and

grow up.

See, now, I like Amy as much as I like Julie -- but I also have no trouble liking Scoot. And, for me, his staying in the cage has nothing to do with his feelings towards either Amy or Julie. It's just a guy adventure. But it sure is interesting hearing other people's interpretations, and it's helped guide my writing.

 

I also have no problem with Don's treatment of Scoot. Don's a patient man, made more patient by his 20 years of experience as a small town police officer. Though Waldron isn't Mayberry, and it's much larger than it was both when Don grew up and when he joined the police force. So Don's had even more practice at diplomacy.

  • Like 1
Link to comment

I have been binge reading this on a lazy Sunday morning and finally feel the urge to comment. I think that if I were Don, I wouldn't have felt the need to clean up Scoot's messes.  Owen was wrong about Don being selfish.  But, perhaps Don being the loving protector, and Sharon being the loving worrier is why Scoot is such a self absorbed jerk.  I don't have a problem with his choice to stay in the cage, I'm accepting of people doing/dressing/saying whatever they want.  It's his decision to not bother telling anyone that he would be out of contact that shows how little he cares about anyone other than himself.  And now Don is doing everything he can to protect Scoot from the consequences of his choices.  At some point, you have to let your kids live their own lives, lumps and all.

Link to comment

There's also the possibility that there are no lumps, and Scoot is a hard-working, well-balanced guy as a result of his parents' caring while he and his sister grew up.  But presently, on a drunken impulse, and a bit because he's in love and showing off, he's having fun, and it's a kind of fun his parents can't understand because they're no longer twenty-four and didn't ever live in the California sun and work in the film industry.

Link to comment
View Guidelines

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
  • Newsletter

    Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter.  Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.

    Sign Up
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

Our Privacy Policy can be found here: Privacy Policy. We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..